The Who Beyond What
Being an introduction to the latest Material Mysticism at Comment
It’s taken me nearly thirty years to write Toronto the Holy, which is a theologically front loaded take on the (I’d say “arguably,” but I’m not sure the point is arguable) best paintings in North America. In it I claim we need not mock or satirize the Group of Seven (if you don’t know who they are, that’s what the piece is for; if you don’t know how they’ve been satirized, count yourself blessed), but add to them, bringing the total to nine thanks to Emily Carr (an admittedly standard move) and the remarkable work of the contemporary Indigenous artist Philip Cote.
One of my contentions is that to view the Group of Seven, Emily Carr, or Indigenous painting through Theosophy is as tiresome as the insular debates about what counts as “Canadian.” This art was never about bloodless spirituality, still less about mere patriotism. Lawren Harris, for all his genius (a fair word in this case), went wrong in thinking beauty is a what, and it stunted his painting. Carr, the Group of Seven and so many Indigenous painters are right to remember beauty is a Who, and their infinity is consequently larger. “There is ‘no such thing’ as God,” insists Thomas Merton, “because God is neither a ‘what’ or a ‘thing’ but a pure ‘Who.’” Or as John O’Donohue memorably put it,
The who-ness of someone can never be finally named, known, claimed, controlled, or predicted. The who is beyond all frames and frontiers and dwells in the mystery of its own reflexivity and infinity. Who has no map. When we claim that God is beauty, we reclaiming for beauty all the adventure, mystery, infinity and autonomy of divine who-ness.
Who-ness is also what the beauty imitated by AI is too far removed from; but it bursts from the walls of the Art Gallery of Ontario and the streetscape of Toronto with near volcanic force. These paintings are glimpses of the future, pledges of what is yet to come, summons to an unnamed country we only see here in passing. They tell of a beauty fit for every nation, which—in our resurrected bodies—we will still require eyes to see. I hope you enjoy the essay. You can subscribe to future installments here for free.
